Broken Pottery
by Yosothy
Summary: Oneshot/Drabble series. 1/20: Filia's last day was destined to be a series of small misfortunes and one blessing.


The sun, still hidden behind the pale clouds, set on another day in which Filia failed to achieve anything other than breaking her favorite new vase. From the moment she woke up in the morning she had spent the entire day tripping over toys in the kitchen, bashing her head on the kiln, or tearing the hem of her skirt whenever she went outside to test a mace for battle.

They had to be ready. She sold the best weapons in the county, enchanted and built to defend _and kill_; the only defense for the human settlements she had come to love.

And the vase had been beautiful; decorated with gold engravings that enhanced the curvature specially designed to allow for an easier watering. Filia had even considered patenting it. Her neighbor, an elderly woman, had been so overjoyed at the ease of such a creation that she had offered more than what Filia had deemed it worth. She had kept the vase in order to allow time for the local appraiser to asses its worth for patent.

In times of war pretty flowers were called for more than in times of peace. Filia had hoped her vase would lighten the mood of every house for a hundred miles in every direction. For both sides even... if the enemy were the kind to enjoy flowers.

That would not be happening now. Filia sighed and bent over to pick up the dozen shattered pieces. The dragon consoled herself that perhaps she could use them for scrap to create a mosaic for the archway of her store.

But the thought did not pacify her. Filia, dull to the quiet evening around her, was so lost that she accidentally cut the padding of her thumb on a particularly sharp piece.

"Ow!" she whined.

Suddenly the curtains on the window were furious in a breeze which was absent in this time of year. A sense of complete hatred filled the dragoness, as well as a sense of compelling passion. Her tail shot up and revealed her backside to the window.

Filia pulled at her skirt quickly knowing full well she had the misfortune of revealing the color of her panties to an intruder. It was habit, and her nature, to any creature. At least the one involved would not tease her about her lazy chartreuse panties anymore. It was no longer appropriate.

"Not having a good day?" the monster asked, kneeling on the sill of the open window. Filia frowned at the sight of him crushing the flowerbed she had so painstakingly kept alive the past five years. There was a pause before he ventured on topic though he knew full well what the answer would be. "Has it anything to do with what we discussed yesterday?"

The former priestess' face flushed; in part of anger at his brash statement, she was so used to him avoiding the conversation at hand, and in part in shame.

Her current misfortune was, after all, that of discomfort. She had not recovered from the question of which Xellos had prompted the night before.

"I require an answer."

Filia turned away from his gaze. It was not the kind smile she was used to; the farce he put up whenever he was around people. But the moment he arrived three years after Val's birth he did not smile once. Not even when Filia tried to joke with him, to reminiscence of their travels before everything happened, or even when she tried to fight with him in play.

She had assumed he hated her. Perhaps he still did. It was entirely likely he always had, though Filia certainly wished he would return her feelings.

Which was what made his question, a proposition really, so uncomfortable and frustrating. He was toying with her; he had to. Filia was abashed to know that the understanding of this fact did not guide her towards the action required of her.

She was a dragon. A former priestess. The temple may have been in disrepair but her beliefs, however corrupt her people had been, did not waver from true morality.

And yet, Filia gulped as she wiped her bloodied hand on her tattered skirt. She had made a decision. The discomfort came from guilt. She had a son and two assistants who would lose respect in her. She would lose, in body and in loving regard.

She had hoped to patent the vase. Perhaps it was fortunate she broke it; she would not have had time to sign the papers.

"I did not expect you to come so soon." She told him, reaching out for his open hand.

"I was ordered. There is to be no more delay in action."

_Or mine_. She believed, hoped him to be thinking.

Xellos did not wear a mocking smile. His eyes were set like a wolf's predatory malice prepared for the hunt.

But it was not directed at her. It was never directed at her, even if it had been the only thing she had seen the past three years.

Filia had learned to like his usually hidden face. But she could never forgive herself for what she was about to do. For what she was about to agree to.

"Well?" Xellos ventured. His gloved hands trailed a possessive territory on her injured thumb. Filia sighed into his gentle touch. It may be the last time; the only time he would touch her like this One of Filia's many new regrets was that she knew he did not want her to say what she did next; that he had warned her of the consequences. Of her _death_.

"Yes, I agree." she said. The dragon knew she was doing this to protect her loved ones... even if they would never know. The monster she knew could not guarantee their lives, she knew this, though Xellos tried to trick her into believing otherwise.

After all, he could only not save _her_. She could still do something for her family by acting.

Xellos' hands left her own and he wrapped a stiff arm around her waist and Filia squeaked. They floated into the air and he began to wave his staff.

Filia had only one moment left to look back had the home she had to forsake for the good of everything she held dear. Instead she chose to stare into the eyes of the man she felt compelled to help, the man who had managed to wrangle an agreement of safety for her house, her village, from his mistress at the cost of her own life.

He did not smile down at her or even acknowledge her. His face was set into disappointment. He most certainly hated her now, at least a little bit, if he did not before.

It was not likely she would ever come home.

Filia's only fleeting grain of happiness aside from securing the lives of her family, was that Xellos would miss her.

He held on to her tighter as they disappeared from sight.


End file.
